A New Organization
by SilverRosesBleedGold
Summary: Harry begins to see through the manipulations of Dumbledore. With help from his friends and godfather, he embarks on a journey to defeat the Dark Lord. From within Hogwarts, the powers granted by his inheritances will give way to the rise of a new organization that will fight against the powers of darkness and against the powers of corruption. Independent!Harry Dumbledore!Bashing
1. Suspicions Confirmed

**Well, this is a new story that I've been working on. I hope you all enjoy it. **

**I haven't worked on my other story, Profitable Ventures, in quite some time and I don't know that I will be updating it in the near future. I do have some of chapter nine worked out and some plans set down, but I don't have the muse right now. All of the feedback is wonderful. **

**For this story, I do have a bit of a plan in mind and I have taken a lot of the dialogue from the books and movies. **

**Nearly the entire court scene is copied verbatim from an online version of the book, so it's not completely necessary to read.**

* * *

"Only, Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything." Hermione rushed out nervously.

"Dumbledore said that?" Harry asked after a moments pause. "But why would he keep me in the dark? Maybe I could help. After all, I'm the one who saw Voldemort return, the one who fought him, who saw Cedric Diggory get killed."

His question went unanswered as Fred and George apparated into the shady and bedraggled room

"Harry," one said.

"Thought we heard your dulcet tones."

"Don't bottle it up though mate, let it out."

"Anyway, if you're all done shouting, do you want to hear about something a little more interesting?"

* * *

"If anyone has a right to know, it's Harry. If it wasn't for Harry we wouldn't even know Voldemort was back." The hushed voice of Sirius Black said.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the twins were all up on the landing above the kitchen, listening to the twin's newest invention, their extendable ear. It was currently eavesdropping on the meeting between the Order of the Phoenix.

"He's not a child, Molly," Sirius argued.

"But he's not an adult either," she insisted. "He's not James, Sirius,"  
"Well, he's not your son." He bit back.

"He's as good as." She said, sounding slightly miffed. "Who else has he got?"

Ginny crept up to the group, clearly interested as well.

"He's got me." Sirius said.

"How touchingly paternal, Black," the sneering tones of Severus Snape said scathingly. "Perhaps Potter will grow up to be a felon, just like his godfather."

"Now you stay out of this, Snivellus." Sirius remarked. "I'm not convinced of your supposed reformation. I know better."

"Snape's part of the order?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Git." Ron grumbled.

"He's a git Dumbledore trusts," Hermione said, as if that mattered.

"So why don't you tell him?" Snape retorted.

The quality of the audio cut as Crookshanks, Hermione's smashed-faced cat, batted at the ear hanging by the kitchen door.

"Crookshanks no!" Hermione hissed loudly down the stairs.

"Stop it, you ruddy cat!" Ron said.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione scolded.

"Leave it alone!" One of the twins said.

"Get it up!" One said to the other.

But the cat didn't stop and the ear disconnected from the thin string, halting all sound from the kitchen.

"Hermione, I hate that cat," Ron said with a tone of finality.

"Bad Crookshanks!" Hermione huffed, watching as the fluffy orange tail flickered away behind a corner, ear in mouth.

* * *

Everyone retreated back to Ron and Harry's room, sitting on the beds and tattered armchairs.

"Sirius is completely right, you know," Harry said. "I should be allowed to know what's going on."

"We all should be, mate," Fred said.  
"You're not the only one affected, Harry," George assured him.

"I know, I know." Harry said. "Sorry, I meant we. But at least you've been here all summer; I haven't heard a scrap of news. Found anything out?"

"All we know is that You-Know-Who is gathering his forces. The ministry is still oblivious." Hermione said.

"Mum has had us cleaning the bottom floor of the house since that bloody house-elf, Kreacher, is useless."

"Wretched, foul creature," Hermione said with a shudder.

"That's it?" Harry asked, disappointed. "Then what can we do? We need to be prepared. And why didn't Dumbledore let you guys write?"

"I don't know," Hermione said. "It just doesn't make any sense. No one knows we're here and no one knows you were there, so why does it matter?"

"Unless…" Ginny whispered.  
"Unless what, Ginny?" Ron asked.

"Unless Dumbledore was intentionally keeping Harry closed off."

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that, he's the headmaster." Hermione said, shooting down Ginny's suggestion. "He's the leader of the light."

"So?" Ginny asked. "That doesn't mean he's perfect or trustworthy. There's no reason Harry should have been cut off, or even at Private drive."

"The blood wards," Harry said. "I have to keep them charged."

"That's a load of bull, the blood wards don't even exist, I'd wager."

"Of course they exist, Harry has stayed safe all these years." Hermione insisted.

"That doesn't mean he's not behind powerful regular wards. But not blood wards, it couldn't be blood wards."

"How would you know?" Harry asked, stopping the tirade Hermione was about to launch.

"Well… I've been doing some studying in the Black library," Ginny began uneasily.

"Ginny, that's dangerous!" Hermione gasped.

"I asked Sirius, Hermione. He cleared out an area for me, it's perfectly safe,"

Hermione still did not seem assured.

"Anyways," Ginny said, looking slightly perturbed. "I found some old books in there. So I thought I'd study. Well, I found a book Sirius missed in his search for dark or magical books."

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. "Where is it? Did you tell someone?"

"No, Hermione," Ginny said strongly. "And I won't be, either. The book doesn't belong to the Blacks and it's right useful."  
"Then who does it belong to?" George asked.

"Seems a bit odd for a magical book to be turning up in a hidden house." Fred said.

"Remember what happened last time you went poking around with mysterious books, Gin?" Fred asked.

"Shut up!" Ginny said vehemently. "This book doesn't talk to me and I know what I'm doing! It's just a book!"

"I want to see it." Hermione said.

"No, you're just going to turn it in like a goody-two-shoes." Ginny hissed.

"I will not! Only if it's dangerous." Hermione insisted.

"Hermione, shut up." Harry said loudly. He was tired of being ignored. "Ginny, get the book and let us all look at it. I will be deciding what's dangerous and what's not."

"What makes you fit to decide?" Hermione shot back.

"I'm not being arrogant, before anyone suggests that," Harry said, glancing meaningfully at Ron. "I happen to have more experience dealing with magical objects. I can see and feel magic."

"Since when?" Hermione asked.

"Since my wand connected with Voldemorts in the graveyard."

"Is that the only thing that's changed, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Well…no." Harry admitted.

"What happened?" Fred asked.

"My first night back at Private Drive, my scar started feeling really funny. It didn't hurt until I went to sleep. I started having weird dreams."

"Why didn't you write Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione interrupted loudly.

"I couldn't Hermione!" Harry shouted. "Hedwig was locked in her cage and there were bars on my window!"

Ginny gasped quietly.

"I'll just…go and get the book."

"We'll help," Fred and George said.

"What do you mean, weird dreams, mate?"

"I was having dreams of Hogwarts, but I didn't recognize anyone. And of being bullied at an orphanage. And of murdering this old couple and their son in a huge manor house. But, it looked like the house on the hill above the graveyard."

"Oh my God, Harry!" Hermione said. "Those sound like dreams from You-Know-Who! We have to tell Dumbledore!"

"No!" Harry yelled.

Hermione stopped, shocked.

"No," he said more calmly. "Look, I think they were memories from my scar."

"Memories from your scar?" Ron asked. "Like you had a piece of Voldemort in your head?"

"Sounds crazy, right?" Harry asked. "But what else could it be? But then something weird happened."

"It get's weirder?" Ron asked.

"A book appeared in my trunk." Harry said, holding his breath.

"Just appeared?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure it wasn't from Hogwarts?"

"I'm sure."

"Books just don't appear, we have to tell Dumbledore!"

"Hermione, I don't think we can trust Dumbledore. And I do think we can trust the book."

"Why? Why can we trust some magic book that popped out of no where?"

"Well… it was called the Potter Family Grimoire."

"The Potter Family Grimoire?" Hermione asked. "That's impossible! Families lock those away in the vaults! They're given to heirs when they take up the lordship."

"That's only in the muggle world. In the magical world, they come only when needed. The Weasley's have one," Ron said. "I've never seen it. Ours hasn't appeared in years."

"Appeared?" Hermione asked.

"They appear when the heir needs the information inside."  
"Well, mine held some interesting information." Harry said. "Things about Dumbledore, Hermione. Things I don't want to believe, but they made sense. And I'm pretty sure it's all true."

"Like what?"

"Well…" Harry said. "Hermione, I don't trust Dumbledore."

"What?" Both Ron and Hermione asked.

"Okay, first year. Three first years got by all of the traps he set? Why even set traps? Why not just lock it in a heavily warded room that only he can get into? Why did all the professors have to know? And how am I supposed to believe no portraits saw a seventy-foot basilisk? Or that he couldn't have protected the goblet better."

"The Philosophers stone-"

"No, Hermione, don't defend him, think about it. What business did it have being in a school?"

"I-" She paused. "He was protecting it! Gringotts was broken into!"

"It was a low security vault, I saw it." Harry said. "And there's a better place for it than a school. And how am I supposed to believe he couldn't sense Voldemort on the back of Quirrels head?"

"Well-"

"Hermione, I was eleven and I could tell something was off. And Snape knew something was up, meaning Dumbledore knew too."

"Snape is Dumbledore's spy," Ron agreed. "But Harry, mate, you've got to have something more than that to go on."

"Hermione, do you know who cast the Fidelius here?"  
"Dumbledore, of course. He's the only one powerful enough to."

"Why couldn't Sirius have done it? Or one of the aurors?"  
"Sirius isn't magically powerful enough, Harry. Plus he owns the house. The Fidelius spell needs three people. The home owner, the caster, and the secret keeper."

"So at my parents house, my dad owned the property, the rat was the secret keeper, and Dumbledore was the caster."  
"Yes." Hermione said. "I would assume so."

"Think about that, really carefully, Hermione."

She thought for a second, looking confused. Her brow creased as she continued thinking, her lip twitching. Slowly, her eyes widened.

"No." She said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"He wouldn't have." She said.

"He would."

"He's the leader of the light."

"And he manipulated many people to get there. Even Grindelwald was his friend, until Dumbledore began pushing him to act up so Dumbledore's career would grow."

"What?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"The more Grindelwald acted, the more Dumbledore could be seen defeating him, increasing his political power. Until it all spiraled out of control and ended in a battle between the two."

"Blimey," Ron said. "You're right. But what're you talking about with the Fidelius?"  
"If Dumbledore cast the spell at my parents house, he knew who the real secret keeper was."

"But why would he do that to Sirius? And why wouldn't Sirius realize it?"

"I do realize it." Sirius' voice came from the doorway.

"Sirius!" Harry said, shocked as he spun around.

"Molly sent me up to get you for dinner, found these three in the library."

Ginny poked her head out from behind him.

"Dumbledore is a master manipulator, Hermione," Sirius said. "He kept me in Azkaban so he could control Harry. I would have raised him right and he would have known about his heritage. I left the book there for Ginny, and fate gave you the Grimoire. But let's talk about this after dinner, alright?"  
"But-" Hermione began.

"No, Hermione." Sirius said, uncharacteristically stern. "Accept that what he says is true and know that Dumbledore wants control of Harry for the power he holds and the destiny he is bound to."

"Destiny I'm bound to?"

"Later." Sirius promised. "All of you," He said, looking at Ginny and the twins.

"Now, off to dinner!"

* * *

"Well, we'll be eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley said as they all trooped down the stairs."

The twins apparated in behind her, the two loud pops startling her badly.

"Oh!" She screamed. "Just because you're allowed to use magic now does not mean that you have to whip your wands out for everything!"

"Hi mum," Ginny said quietly as she skirted past into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione quickly followed her.

"You hungry, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked sweetly as Mr. Weasley came and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"You sure you're all right, Harry? Gave us quite a turn." Mr. Weasley asked, in reference to the dementor attack.

"Yes sir," Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley ushered him into the kitchen where Tonks, a young auror and Sirius' niece, was entertaining the table with her metamorph abilities.

"This is very, very peculiar." Mr. Weasley said as he sat down. "It seems your hearing in the Ministry is to be before the entire Wizengamot."

"I don't understand, what does the Ministry of Magic got against me?"

The room went silent.

"Show him," Mad-Eye Moody growled from the window. "He'll find out soon enough."

Harry looked around the table, waiting, before someone thrust a newspaper into his hands.

"The Boy-Who-Lies!" The headline read. "Fudge: "All is Well."

"He's been attacking Dumbledore as well," said Sirius from his place at the head of the table. "Fudge is using all his power, including his influence at the Daily Prophet, to smear anyone who claims the Dark Lord has returned."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"The Minister thinks Dumbledore is after his job," Remus Lupin explained, gazing at Harry from across the table.

"But that's insane!" Harry exclaimed. "No one in their right mind could believe that Dumbledore-"

"Exactly the point," Remus interrupted. "Fudge isn't in his right mind. It's been twisted and warped by fear. Now, fear makes people do terrible things, Harry. The last time Voldemort gained power, he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear. Now he's returned and I'm afraid the minister will do almost anything to avoid facing that terrifying truth."

"We think," Sirius interjected. "That Voldemort wants to build up his army again."

The room went silent. Sirius had everyone's attention, especially the younger crowd.

"Fourteen years ago, Voldemort had huge numbers at his command. Not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures. He's been recruiting heavily, and we've been attempting to do the same. But gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in."

Mad-Eye cleared his throat.

"We believe Voldemort may be after something," Sirius continued.

Mrs. Weasley looked up.

"Sirius," Mad-Eye warned.

"Something he didn't have last time," Sirius continued, making eye contact with Harry.

The room was dead silent, every breath heard. Harry was sure Mrs. Weasley would stop his godfather soon, but he needed to know.

"You mean, like, a weapon?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Sirius opened his mouth.

"No. That's enough. He's just a boy." Mrs. Weasley said harshly. "You say much more and you might as well induct him into the order."

"Good," Harry said. "I want to join. If Voldemort's raising an army, then I want to fight."

Sirius clapped his hands together and leaned back in his chair, smirking triumphantly at Mrs. Weasley.

She said nothing, just shaking her head. Sirius smiled at Harry, winking and mouthing 'later.'

* * *

Ron and Harry were sleeping peacefully in their room, Ginny and Hermione to the left of them and Fred and George to their left.

Harry awoke to the sounds of the twins and Hermione entering his room, closely followed by Sirius and Ginny.

Sirius waved his wand, putting up a slew of wards around the room.

Fred and George happily dumped water over Ron, sending him careening off of the bed, sputtering.

"Bloody hell," Ron said.

"Boys," Hermione scolded. "Now is not the time."

"Yes, mum," They said in unison.

"Sit, all of you," Sirius said, watching as they took their places.

"Now, I promised you an explanation about Dumbledore, but there's a few conditions. Right now, all you need to know is not to interrupt me." He gazed at Hermione, who blushed under the scrutiny.

"Now, there is a prophecy that was made fifteen years ago, before your birth, Harry, about, we believe, you and Voldemort. That is what the order is focusing on guarding and that is the weapon Voldemort seeks. I find it fairly obvious what's within. Only you can kill him and, if this prophecy is like most others, only he can kill you."

"A prophecy?" Harry asked, incredulous. "That's what this is about? This is why Voldemort wants me dead so badly?"

"All because some fortune telling twit spat out some prediction?" Ginny asked.

"Shush." Sirius said. "Most prophecies work only because someone believes in them. These are self-fulfilling prophecies, and they have a habit of working out. My point is, Dumbledore knew and he knows what he's doing. The man wants control, he controls the ministry and the ICW simply because he defeated a dark lord and has reared just about every generation of European wizards through his control of Hogwarts."

"Your parents trusted him, Harry, and that trust was misplaced. With Peter's betrayal, I was left incarcerated. If I was not in prison, Harry would have been raised with me and Dumbledore would have had no control. Leaving him with the Dursleys made him grow up unloved and unwanted. Dumbledore then provided him with a place to stay, where he belonged."

"He sent Hagrid to get me," Harry said. "Hagrid fed me nothing but good words about Dumbledore."

"Making you more loyal," Fred said.

"But why?" Hermione asked.

"Harry may be more than just the heir Potter and the heir Black. And he's the only one who can defeat Voldemort."

"So?" Ron asked.  
"If Dumbledore can play it just right, Harry, you will not survive the encounter and that will leave him to herald the Wizarding world into a new era."

"But why send him to Private Drive over and over?" Hermione asked, looking as if she was beginning to grasp and accept the truth in front of her.

"Break his morale." Ron said, looking sick. "I remember the bars on the windows, mate."

"We do too." The twins said.

"Perhaps Ginny can explain why the blood wards are crap." Sirius said.

"Well," she began nervously, face glowing as red as her hair. "For blood wards to work, the dying blood must be shed on the property. Meaning, Harry's mum would have had to have died at Number Four. Her sacrifice may live in Harry, but not on that property. More than that, there must be love behind a ward to power it. A willing sacrifice ward, at least."

"Correct." Sirius said.

"So I'm there to suffer, essentially," Harry said.

"Yes, pup," Sirius confirmed.  
"Hermione, can you accept this as fact?" Harry asked.

"I…Yes," She said. "Yes, I can."

"We can too," The twins said.

"But what can we do?" Hermione asked. "He's the leader of the light? And I still find it hard to believe he wants to lead Harry to his death."

"I had a piece of Voldemorts soul in my head, Mione," Harry revealed quietly. "A piece of his soul."

The room went quiet before everyone seemed to have something to say.  
"Quiet!" Sirius shouted. "Quiet. Harry, tell them the rest."

"The Potter Grimoire helped me with that. The solution was simply, as my magic was stronger than the shard of soul. I broke it down, I absorbed it."

"You absorbed it?" Ron yelped, scooting away from his friend.  
"What do you mean, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly.

"It taught me how to find my magic and then batter the soul shard. I…shook it loose and began to absorb it, since I couldn't expel it. I've never felt more powerful. Yet, I still feel held back."

"Blocks on your magic," Sirius explained. "There's only one thing you can do. You can all do, with Harry's help."

"What?" Fred asked.

"The goblins at Gringotts can freeze time, for a fee, and arrange for all of you to train, extensively, in every form of magic."

"I've never heard of that," Hermione said.

"Wouldn't expect you to." Sirius said. "They haven't done it in many years. The day after tomorrow, Harry, you and I will slip away to Gringotts. There, I will emancipate you and you can claim your titles. If my suspicions are correct, you will all be granted the training you need."

"But why would they help us?" Ginny asked.

"Goblins tend to hate wizards,"

"Tend to hate wizards very much." The twins said.

"Exceptions are made for powerful heirs. And friends," Sirius said with a wink.

"Boys," Sirius said, looking to the twins. "The day after tomorrow, I need mayhem. I need your mother too busy to notice Harry and I missing. I need Ron to be missing to, preferably in my bedroom, to vouch for us. Can you do this?"

"With pleasure," The twins said with a bow.

"Sure," Ron agreed.

"Girls," Sirius said. "I want you in the library researching wards. If all goes to plan, we may need to be warding another location. There are three other order members who are on our side. Tonks, Remus, and Mad-Eye."

"Mad-Eye?" Ron exclaimed.

"He seemed so against you earlier," Ginny said.

"Yes, he did," Sirius said. "Because he knows to act and because you've yet to be trained to his level. Hopefully that will be rectified."

The room was silent.

"None of you have to do this," Sirius said. "You don't have to fight in this war. But it is coming, and all we can do is try to be prepared. I know that if I don't help you now, you'll rush off and get hurt later."

Fred and George looked at each other before shrugging and nodding in agreement.

Sirius cracked a smile.

"Alright, off to bed, all of you. Harry, good luck at the hearing tomorrow. Arthur will be escorting you.

* * *

Harry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

"You're late."

"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I - I didn't know the time had been changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed, too, with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudges left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudges right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "Into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry-James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

"Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore; a deep feeling of righteous anger. He had a right to be angry, he had been wronged by the benevolent headmaster. He wanted to catch Dumbledore's eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our, ah, message that the time and place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes, well, I suppose we'll need another chair. Weasley, could you?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

"Yes," said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. "Well, then. So. The charges. Yes."

He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, "The charges against the accused are as follows:

That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy."

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

"Yes," Harry said.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.

"Yes," said Harry, "but-"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but-"

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, but-"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes," said Harry angrily, "but I only used it because we were-"

The witch with the monocle cut across him in a booming voice.

"You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry. "because-"

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"A - what?" said Harry.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?"

"Yes," said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate. "It's a stag, it's always a stag."

"Always?" boomed Madam Bones. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I've been doing it for over a year."

"And you are fifteen years old?"

"Yes, and-"

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the-"

"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at him, "a true Patronus at his age…very impressive indeed."

Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was," said Fudge in a testy voice, "In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech.

"I did it because of the Dementors!" he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again.

He had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before.

"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. "What do you mean, boy?"

"I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!"

"Ah, said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. "I don't understand-"

"Don't you, Amelia?" said Fudge, still smirking. "Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient… so it's just your word and no witnesses…"

"I'm not lying!" said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it-"

"Enough, enough!" said Fudge, with a very supercilious look on his face. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story-"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again.

"We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in that alleyway," he said, "other than Dudley Dursley, I mean."

Fudges plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, "We haven't got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly-"

"I may be wrong," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?" he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle.

"True," said Madam Bones. "Perfectly true."

"Oh, very well, very well," snapped Fudge. "Where is this person?"

"I brought her with me," said Dumbledore. "She's just outside the door. Should I?"

"No, Weasley, you go," Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once, ran down the stone steps from the judge's balcony and hurried past Dumbledore and Harry without glancing at them.

A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs. Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever. Harry wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers.

Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs. Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself.

"Full name?" said Fudge loudly, when Mrs. Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat.

"Arabella Doreen Figg," said Mrs. Figg in her quavering voice.

"And who exactly are you?" said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice

"I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives," said Mrs. Figg.

"We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter," said Madam Bones at once. "That situation has always been closely monitored, given…given past events."

"I'm a Squib," said Mrs. Figg. "So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?"

"A Squib, eh?" said Fudge, eyeing her closely. "We'll be checking that. You'll leave details of your parentage with my assistant Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see Dementors?" he added, looking left and right along the bench.

"Yes, we can!" said Mrs. Figg indignantly.

Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised.  
"Very well," he said aloofly. "What is your story?"

"I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, around about nine o'clock, on the evening of the second of August," gabbled Mrs. Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, "When I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw Dementors running-"

"Running?" said Madam Bones sharply. "Dementors don't run, they glide."

"That's what I meant to say," said Mrs. Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing in her withered cheeks. "Gliding along the alley towards what looked like two boys."

"What did they look like?" said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the edge of the monocle disappeared into her flesh.

"Well, one was very large and the other one rather skinny-"

"No, no," said Madam Bones impatiently. "The Dementors…describe them."

"Oh," said Mrs. Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. "They were big. Big and wearing cloaks."

Harry felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach. Whatever Mrs. Figg might say, it sounded to him as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a Dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like: the eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground; or the rotting smell of them; or that terrible rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air…

In the second row, a dumpy wizard with a large black moustache leaned close to whisper in the ear of his neighbor, a frizzy-haired witch. She smirked and nodded.

"Big and wearing cloaks," repeated Madam Bones coolly, while Fudge snorted derisively. "I see. Anything else?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Figg. "I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt…as though all happiness had gone from the world…and I remembered…dreadful things…"

Her voice shook and died.

Madam Bones' eyes widened slightly. Harry could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it.

"What did the Dementors do?" she asked, and Harry felt a rush of hope.

"They went for the boys," said Mrs. Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. "One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the Dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced only silver vapor. On the third attempt, he produced a Patronus, which charged down the first Dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased the second one away from his cousin. And that…that is what happened," Mrs. Figg finished, somewhat lamely.

Madam Bones looked down at Mrs. Figg in silence. Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers.

Finally, he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively, "That's what you saw, is it?"

"That is what happened," Mrs. Figg repeated.

"Very well," said Fudge. "You may go."

Mrs. Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off towards the door. Harry heard it thud shut behind her.

"Not a very convincing witness," said Fudge loftily.

"Oh, I don't know," said Madam Bones, in her booming voice. "She certainly described the effects of a Dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't."

"But Dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard?" snorted Fudge. "The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet-"

"Oh, I don't think any of us believe the Dementors were there by coincidence," said Dumbledore lightly.

The witch sitting to the right of Fudge, with her face in shade w, moved slightly but everyone else was quite still and silent.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fudge asked icily.

"It means that I think they were ordered there," said Dumbledore.

"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of Dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!" barked Fudge.

"Not if the Dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius."

"Yes, you have," said Fudge forcefully, "and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The Dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to."

"Then," said Dumbledore, quietly but clearly, "we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of Dementors into that alleyway on the second of August."

In the complete silence that greeted these words, the witch to the right of Fudge leaned forwards so that Harry saw her for the first time.

He thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Fudge.

The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took Harry aback; he had been expecting a croak.

"I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore," she said, with a simper that felt her big, round eyes as cold as ever. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. A few other members of the Wizengamot laughed with her. It could not have been plainer that not one of them was really amused.

"If it is true that the Dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two Dementors attacked Harry and his cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks," said Dumbledore politely. "Of course, these particular Dementors may have been outside Ministry control-"

"There are no Dementors outside Ministry control!" snapped Fudge, who had turned brick red.

Dumbledore inclined his head in a little bow.

"Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two Dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization."

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!" snapped Fudge, now a shade of magenta of which Uncle Vernon would have been proud.

"Of course it isn't," said Dumbledore mildly. "I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated."

He glanced at Madam Bones, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly.

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these Dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!" said Fudge. "We are here to examine Harry Potter's offences under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!"

"Of course we are," said Dumbledore, "but the presence of Dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause Seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations which threaten the life of the wizard or witch him- or herself, or any witches, wizards or Muggles present at the time of the-"

"We are familiar with Clause Seven, thank you very much!" snarled Fudge.

"Of course you are," said Dumbledore courteously. "Then we are in agreement that Harry's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances the clause describes?"

"If there were Dementors, which I doubt."

"You have heard it from an eyewitness," Dumbledore interrupted.

"If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object."

"I…that's not-" blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. "It's…I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"

"But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice," said Dumbledore.

"Serious miscarriage, my hat!" said Fudge at the top of his voice. "Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm he used three years ago-"

"That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!" said Harry.

"YOU SEE?" roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in Harry's direction. "A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you."

"The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School," said Dumbledore. "I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish."

"I haven't got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that's not the only time. He blew up his aunt, for Gods sake!" Fudge shouted, banging his fist on the judge's bench and upsetting a bottle of ink.

"And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions," said Dumbledore calmly, as Fudge attempted to scrub the ink off his notes.

"And I haven't even started on what he gets up to at school."

"But, as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanors at school, Harry's behavior there is not relevant to this hearing," said Dumbledore, as politely as ever, but now with a suggestion of coolness behind his words.

"Oho!" said Fudge. "Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?"

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August," said Dumbledore. "Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven; again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August, in your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself."

"Laws can be changed," said Fudge savagely.

"Of course they can," said Dumbledore, inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

A few of the wizards above them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Fudge turned a slightly deeper shade of puce. The toad like witch on his right, however, merely gazed at Dumbledore, her face quite expressionless.

"As far as I am aware," Dumbledore continued, "there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offence and he has presented his defence. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict."

Dumbledore put his fingertips together again and said no more. Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Wizengamot had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations.

Harry looked at his feet. He had expected the hearing to last longer than this. He was not at all sure that he had made a good impression. He had not really said very much. He ought to have explained more fully about the Dementors, about how he had fallen over, about how both he and Dudley had nearly been kissed…

Then the whispering stopped. Harry wanted to look up at the judges, but found that it was really much, much easier to keep examining his laces.

"Those in favor of clearing the witness of all charges?" said Madam Bones' booming voice.

Harry's head jerked upwards. There were hands in the air, many of them…more than half! Breathing very fast, he tried to count, but before he could finish, Madam Bones had said, "And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily mustached wizard and the frizzy-haired witch in the second row.

Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, and then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well…cleared of all charges."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feel, pulling out his wand and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. "Well, I must be getting along. Good-day to you all."

And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.

* * *

That night, Mrs. Weasley had cooked a large dinner in celebration of Harry's hearing going as well as it could. After dinner, everyone gathered in Harry's room to talk.

"The hearing was unbelievable," Harry said. "Fudge was acting like a child. And that lady in pink…" He shuddered.

"That was Delores Umbridge." Sirius said. "Woman is a piece of work. Hates anything that isn't a pureblood. Right now, she's pushing legislation against the centaurs of Hogwarts."

"She sounds absolutely vile!" Hermione said. "And they let people like her into the ministry?"

"People like her are the ministry," Ginny huffed.

"For being so against creatures, she sure looks like a toad." Harry grumbled, eliciting a laugh from Sirius.

"It's people like that," Hermione began. "That needs to be kicked out of the Ministry."

"Very true," Sirius said. "People like Fudge."

"Amelia Bones wasn't so bad," Harry said.

"Word is,"

"That's Madam Bones,"  
"Is quite the firecracker," Fred and George said.

"Amelia Bones is a formidable witch. She was an auror when your father and I were, Harry,"

"My dad was an auror?" Harry asked.

"Of course, I was too," Sirius said. "You mean no one has told you these things?"

"Remus told me a little during third year," Harry said. "But all I know is I look like my father and I have my mothers eyes."

"Well, we'll be fixing that." His godfather stated. "But for now, you need your rest. Does everyone remember what they're doing tomorrow?"

"We're causing mayhem," Fred and George said with a smirk.

"I'm hiding in your room," Ron said.

"And we're researching wards," Hermione said, looking to Ginny.

"Great." Sirius said, clapping his hands. "Alright, off to bed, you lot."

"Night, Sirius," everyone chorused.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

"Pup," he heard Sirius whisper.

"I'm up," Harry said back. He rolled out of bed and pulled on his trousers and a white button up. It wasn't the nicest outfit, but it was the best he had. Plus, it fit.

He grabbed a plain black cloak and swung it over his shoulders, turning to Sirius who was dressed similarly.

"How are we getting out?" Harry asked Sirius.

"This is the ancestral house of Black, Harry," Sirius said. "It may look like a modern townhouse, but there are secret passages and rooms."

"Really?" Harry asked, sounding surprised. "Where?"

Sirius walked to the wall across from the beds, whispering "Toujours Pur," the Black family motto. A section of the faded wallpaper seemed to blink out of view, revealing a narrow passage that looked like a slide.

"A slide?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Quick escape route. It'll spit us out in the back gardens, far enough outside of the wards to apparate," the man explained.

He waved his wand a few times, clearing the slide of a good bit of grime.

"You first, Harry,"

"Alright," Harry said, stepping forward before sitting at the edge of the slide.

"Here, I'll give you a push," Sirius said, giving Harry a hard and quick push that sent him barreling down the chute.

Harry stifled a shout as the tunnel quickly sent him faster than the powers of gravity would permit. He was twisted and spun and at times felt that he was lying flat. He felt the slide even out once more before he was spit into patchy grass under the starry sky.

He quickly rolled out of the way when he began to hear the whistle of Sirius coming down the tunnel.

"Well, that was fun," Sirius said in a louder but still quiet voice.

"Yeah, fun," Harry said, tone making it clear that's not the way he felt about the situation.

"Alright, up we go," Sirius said, standing and offering a hand to Harry.

The escaped convict brushed himself off before waving his wand around his godson and himself, clearing all the dirt and grime off of their cloaks.

"Sirius…How are you going to get us into Diagon without getting caught?"

"I have a portkey directly into Gringotts from the goblins."

"They do that?"

"Special circumstances, pup,"

"Right, well," Harry said, looking around the decrepit "garden" with unease. "Let's go."

Sirius pulled out a letter, the portkey, and handed it to Harry, keeping his hands on it as well.

"Gold." Sirius uttered.

And a hook behind their navels pulled them away.

* * *

**18 pages are pretty good for a first chapter, I think. But a lot of it was taken from the books and movies, though I did feel those pieces were necessary. If you don't like it, then you can suck it up and leave. **

**To all of you who enjoyed this start, I hope you keep with it. I have a few plans for it and I think it'll go well. **

**I look forward to your feedback. **

**SRBG**


	2. True Inheritance

**I've had a few people ask about the pairings for this story. At the moment, it's undecided. However, I don't write romance well so there may end up being no pairing at all. I may set up a poll later or something, but no promises.**

* * *

"Ugh," Harry groaned upon impact. "Hate portkeys."

"You'll get used to them, pup," Sirius assured as he smoothed his robes.

They were in an opulent office. The walls were a smooth, reddish stone, decorated with tapestries depicting battles of a bloody nature and various animal pelts he didn't recognize.

The carpet was a deep red and a large mahogany desk sat in front of them. Harry and Sirius took he two armchairs as a well-dressed goblin entered the room from a door behind the desk.

"Ah, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter," The goblin greeted, taking a seat behind his desk. "Welcome. I am Goldbook, major account manager here a Gringotts."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Harry returned politely.

"You as well," The goblin said after a moments consideration.

"From my understanding," Sirius began. "The goblins have been attempting to contact my godson since he entered the Wizarding world."

"Indeed, and all of our letters have come back unopened or were met with confusion by our owls."

"Why wasn't I getting the letters?" Harry asked, confused.

"Probably a mail redirection ward from our dearest headmaster," Sirius told his godson. "Regardless, we are here now."

"Yes, I see you have activated your premier portkey." Goldbook noted.

"Indeed." Sirius confirmed. "But we are working on a time frame. We need to see the wills of Lily and James Potter."

"We no longer hold record of wills for the Potters," Goldbook said, looking at a file that had appeared on his desk. "The ministry seized them and, by the looks of it, had them destroyed."  
"Why?" Harry asked. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Not when the ministry writes the laws." Sirius grumbled. "If I am correct, Goldbook, that leaves Harry as the last living heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

"You are correct."

"And is that not grounds for emancipation?"

"It is." Goldbook confirmed. "Shall I begin the paperwork?"

"If you would." Sirius said. "I don't believe it shall take too long, will it?"

"The process could be…expedited." The goblin said with a sharp-toothed grin.

"I'm sure," Sirius agreed, wondering just how much money this would cost him.

* * *

"So I'm fully emancipated?" Harry asked, looking at the paperwork in his hands.

"Yes, you are." The goblin confirmed. "As an adult, you can now take up the titles of Lord Potter and Lord Black, as Mr. Black here has named you his legal heir."

Harry looked to Sirius.

"Bring him the rings," Sirius stated.

"Please," Harry added.

The goblin left the room, in which time Harry began to whisper hurriedly to his godfather.

"Emancipation?"

"It's the best plan I've got."

"But what of the training you spoke of?"

"That will come after. You have to understand, Harry, that the goblins won't allow you this training until your bloodline is revealed and you claim your inheritances."

"The Potter and Black ones?"

"No, pup," Sirius told him. "Just…It's just a suspicion, alright? But when the goblin comes back in, take the rings, put them on, and then ask for a bloodline test, as far back as they can run."

"All right, Sirius," Harry agreed.

Just then, the goblin entered the room carrying two boxes, one made of a red wood and the other black as night.

The goblin retook his seat and silently pushed the boxes across the desk. Harry opened them with ease, peering down at the rings inside.

The Black ring was a heavy silver band with a black stone set in the middle. The stone shimmered, looking to be a black diamond. A black unicorn was engraved on the side and the motto, Latin for always pure, was inscribed around the gem.

The Potter ring was solid gold, with a large ruby set on the thick band. A crest in gold adorned the gem, a proud lion on a shield.

Harry slid the rings onto his right hand, Potter on the ring finger and Black on the pointer. He felt his magic rise for a moment before settling again, now tied to the rings that had molded themselves to fit his fingers.

"Will that be all, Lord Potter-Black?" Goldbook asked.

"I would like for you to perform a blood line test, as far back as you can," Harry requested, not used to the title change.

"Very well," The goblin agreed.

He pulled a stone basin from a drawer in his desk, laying it down on the table. Then, he pulled a white-hilted dagger from the same drawer, handing it to Harry.

"Place fifteen drops of blood into the basin."

Harry hesitantly grabbed the dagger before slicing it across his palm, ignoring the stinging pain. He dropped the required number of blood drops into the basin and then sat down, allowing Sirius to wave his wand over the cut and knit it shut.

Slowly, words began appearing on a piece of parchment underneath the basin.

Goldbook pulled the paper out from under the basin and began to read it, his eyebrows rising as he did so.

"What does it say?" Harry asked when it appeared the goblin was speechless.

"I…I'm not fit to handle this matter, allow me to send you over to Director Ragnok." Goldbook stuttered out, getting up from his seat hurriedly and leaving the room before either could protest.

"…Sirius," Harry began. "What, exactly, were you suspecting?"

"Well," Sirius answered slowly. "I believe that you might, possibly, be the heir to one of the founders titles."

"The founders titles?" Harry inquired. "Like, Gryffindor or something?"

"Well, it has often been suspected that the Potters are of Gryffindor descent. However, none of the Potters have claimed the title. Perhaps because of the danger and attention it would bring or, perhaps, because they were denied by the vaults."

"Denied by the vaults?"  
"You must understand, Harry, that Gringotts was not built only by the goblins. In fact, according to the treaties the goblins hold with the ministry, goblins can't hold property at all."

"But the goblins own Gringotts, right?"

"Not exactly. It's complicated, from my understanding. Merlin, or, rather, Merlin's descendants own Gringotts. Merlin set the cornerstone for the wards of Gringotts in the deepest level. You must understand that, in Merlin's time, this land was forest and Gringotts was merely a very deep cavern system."

"So Merlin bought the land or acquired it and gave it to the goblins?" Harry clarified. "Why?"

"I don't know. But the point is, the deed to Gringotts still rests with Merlin's blood. So if Merlin's descendant rose up and turned the title of Gringotts over to the ministry, the bank would fall into ministry control and would be ruined."

"Obviously, that can't be allowed to happen. Who is Merlin's descendant?"

"Merlin's line is…unique," Sirius informed him with a curious tilt of his head. "He named the four founders to be his only heirs. They are heirs by magic though not by blood."

"So if I'm the heir of one of the founders, I'm the heir of Merlin?" Harry asked, still confused.

"No." Sirius said. "There've been founders heirs before. Since Merlin's line is by magic, there is, supposedly, a test to see if one is the heir of Merlin. If you're a founders heir, then you will undergo the test."

"So, I could be the heir to Merlin?"

"You could be." Sirius confirmed. "But that's highly unlikely."

"Oh, Sirius, you haven't even seen unlikely." Harry grumbled.

"Oh?" Sirius inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, hang around me for a bit," Harry said. "I have a way of making the impossible happen."

* * *

Harry and Sirius were lead into another office, this one larger and more opulent. The walls were a deeper red, decorated with gold scones that were flickering with torchlight. The floor was a deep red hardwood covered by furs. A roaring fireplace sat across from the door with an eerie boars head was mounted above it.

A stout goblin with bejeweled fingers and a finely tailored bankers suit was sitting behind the huge desk. Three other goblins were behind him, each moving an armful of folders onto the desk.

"Please, be seated, Lord Potter-Black and Mr. Black." The goblin, Ragnok, Harry assumed, said as he gestured to two red leather armchairs in front of his desk.

Harry and Sirius did as they were asked while the three goblins left the room.

"The results of your inheritance test are unbelievable, young Lord," Ragnok informed them as he looked over the inheritance parchment. "So much so, in fact, that I, as the director of the bank, must now oversee your affairs."

"I will admit to being curious as to just what the test revealed," Sirius shared, leaning forward. "Goldbook was rather…abrupt in his departure."

"See for yourself," Ragnok told them, handing the sheet to Harry.

Sirius peered over his shoulder, beginning to read it as well.

_Harry James Potter_

_Son of: Lord James Charlus Potter and Lady Lily Potter nee Evans. _

_Heir to:_

_The Ancient and Noble House of Potter by Blood_

_The Ancient and Noble House of Black by Magic_

_The Ancient and Royal House of Gryffindor by Blood_

_The Ancient and Royal House of Hufflepuff by Blood_

_The Ancient and Royal House of Slytherin by Magic _

_The Ancient and Royal House of Ravenclaw by Blood_

"I…I don't understand." Harry stuttered, face paling. All four of the founders? All four? That simply wasn't possible. Gryffindor he could understand but the others, how?

"How is this possible?" Harry asked, looking to the goblin.

Sirius, too, was speechless, looking to be deep in thought.

"Gryffindor has always been in the Potter veins. Hufflepuff was actually brought into your family by the marriage of Charlus Jr. to Alva Comgall, who was part of the last bloodline of Hufflepuff. As we have previously tested your father, it could only mean that the Ravenclaw blood came from your mother. It's likely that she was part of one of the squib lines. The Slytherin line is where it gets tricky. You are listed as heir by Magic, meaning the Slytherin magic is in your blood and it accepts you as the last remaining member."

Harry was still struck silent.

"What…What does this mean for me?" He asked after a few moments pause. "And how did I end up with the magic of Slytherin in my blood?"

"It means that you are one of the wealthiest men in Britain. As for where the magic came from, it is probably from a close encounter with Voldemort or something else containing the blood of Slytherin. It also means that you are royalty."

"R-Royalty?" Harry stuttered.

"Lady Ravenclaw was the Duchess of Somerset. Lady Hufflepuff was the Duchess of Cleveland. Lord Slytherin was the Duke of Kendal. Lord Gryffindor was the Duke of Norfolk."

"But dukes aren't royalty." Sirius interjected.

"Not according to the muggles. But in the magical world, the dukes and duchesses were considered royalty and were viewed as an extension of the crown."

"You mean, the Wizarding world is under crown rule?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yes, it is," Ragnok confirmed. He didn't have an issue educating a confused, polite, and extremely powerful and rich young lord. "The Minister of Magic has a liaison with the crown who has a liaison with the Queen's liaison. So the minister has someone pass information to someone else who passes it to someone else who passes it to the Queen."

"But why do we hear nothing from the Queen?"

"The lines of information are corrupt. The people care little for the Queen and the Queen receives no accurate information, nor is she allowed governmental control. She can't mobilize into position to do so with the interference of corrupt officials and has seen no need to, as she has been placated."

"Arthur made Merlin's heirs the Dukes and Duchesses of the magical world and made Merlin the King of Magical Britain, with respect to the ruling Monarch of the main body of England. Meaning, King Merlin's word was law but deference was always shown to the rule of the muggle monarch."

"That's not how it is now." Sirius commented.

"No," Ragnok agreed. "Those were better times indeed. But still, the founders titles hold enormous sway, the word of Merlin holds even more."

"How do I claim the Lordships?" Harry asked. "Do I even have to? Can't we leave them be?" He asked hopefully, turning to his godfather.  
"We'd like a moment to speak alone," Sirius said to the goblin. "Can you have a cart arrange to take Harry to the main vaults for each new title? It is my belief that he must face the vaults to claim the titles."

"Of course, Mr. Black," Ragnok agreed, taking leave of his office without a comment.

When the door was securely shut, Sirius turned to Harry.

"Harry. We are preparing for a war. You seem to want so badly to be in the thick of things. You said it yourself; if Voldemort's raising an army then you want to fight. This is part of fighting. Money is a great boon during a war. Control of the government is even better in these stages."

"I understand, I guess," Harry muttered uneasily. "Are these titles that important though?"

"The Wizengamot is made up of fifty families, the founders included. Not all of these families are still sitting. The Minister is also granted a vote in the Wizengamot as well as all of the heads of department."

"And there are how many heads of department?"

"Seven," Sirius answered. "Though the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has two votes, leaving the Head Amelia Bones with three votes. Since the founders are royalty, they have ten votes to everyone else's one. Or, at the most, three."

"So that leaves me with forty votes?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Forty-two, actually," Sirius corrected. "There are 96 votes in total, though nine of the families are extinct or without heirs. That leaves 87 votes. Meaning only 45 of the votes aren't yours. If you held four more votes, you would hold a majority."

"Bloody hell," Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Do you understand how much power you wield?" Sirius asked.

"I'm beginning to." Harry conceded.

"And if phrased properly, the goblins might allow you and your friends training."

"What's the proper phrasing?"

"Offer them support on a bill behind their rights, threaten to move your gold from Gringotts and into your own castle dungeons, offer them goblin made treasure sitting within your vaults."

"Threaten them and then offer to support them?"

"No, pick one of those three or see what else you can come up with." Sirius said.

"That's your great plan?" Harry hissed. "What if they say no?"

"It's all I could come up with! Remus was convinced it would work and, in my defense, I didn't think you'd be heir to all four bloody founders." Sirius retorted.

"I think it works better this way, if barely." Harry said, thinking. "I don't see how it would have worked if I was heir to only one. And this whole plan is based off of me being accepted as Lord."

"Let's just take the car down and see. Something tells me you'll get your lordship."

"I hope you're right," Harry said. "I wish Hermione were here, she'd know what to do."

"I'm a bit offended. Second best to a fifteen year old girl." Sirius voiced, sounding slightly miffed.

"You should be, rotten mutt."

* * *

Ragnok was seated in a cart waiting for them when the goblin that was outside his office escorted them to the tunnels.

Harry and Sirius climbed into the cart, noticing that it was larger and padded.

"We will be going to the founder's compound." Ragnok said, pushing down a lever before they could respond.

The cart barreled off down the tracks, following the normal twists and turns for what must have been many miles. The cart jerked and jumped but it seemed somehow less intense and more cushioned.

The ride continued for what must have been six minutes, twisting them around. Finally, the cart slowed.

"Is it over?" Sirius asked.

Ragnok grinned.

The cart dropped over the edge of the tracks. Sirius and Harry were hit with a wave of water that felt magical and didn't leave them wet.

For three minutes more they were spun and thrown around the tracks, the cart often hopping to a different set of tracks.

Finally, they rolled to a stop.

"Thank Merlin it's over," Sirius breathed, moving to get out of the cart.

"Ah, ah, ah," Ragnok warned. "I recommend sitting. Quickly."

Sirius paled before dropping onto the seat, clutching on tightly.

Harry and Ragnok both smirked before the cart just dropped. It fell, as if the ground beneath them simply fell away.

They hit the track at the bottom with a jarring '_thunk_.'

Then, the cart slowly rolled forward before stopping midway down the track.

There was a rough opening in the stone wall. Two torches were mounted on either side, casting a flickering light into the dark caves. It was clear that the track they were on went even deeper into the depths of Gringotts.

Ragnok grabbed a clanking pouch from his pocket. He began to walk forward into the opening, shaking the bag loudly. They were emitting a terrific noise and Sirius and Harry could hear the grunts of a large creature beyond.

"Come, Lord Potter-Black," Ragnok ordered.

"I'll just stay here." Sirius insisted, sitting back in the cart and looking at the entrance with wide eyes.

"Sirius!" Harry hissed.

"Probably for the best, pup," Sirius assured, sitting back in the cart with a nervous smile.

"Are…Are you nervous?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"I don't bloody like dragons!" Sirius growled at him.

"You don't like dragons! You don't like dragons?" Harry whined. "You weren't chased around on a bloody broom by an angry, nesting Hungarian Horntail!"

"Well…no…" Sirius agreed.

"Oh fine, you big coward." Harry muttered, waving his hand and shaking his head.

"You'll do great, pup!" Sirius called after him.

* * *

The cavern Harry emerged into had rough stone walls and was large and pentagonal. Each wall aside from the one containing the exit was fitted with a huge, dark wood door that looked as if it belonged in a castle.

A door carved with the visage of an eagle was directly to Harry's left. To his right was a matching door carved with a lifelike badger. In front and to the left was a door engraved with a lion and in front right was a carving of a Basilisk settled into its coils.

Ragnok was standing to the left of the entrance, Harry now standing next to him. The goblin was still lightly clanking the bag of metal.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked curiously. He had looked around but had seen no signs of a dragon.

Ragnok merely smirked scarily and pointed upwards with a twisted and clawed finger.

Harry slowly tilted his head back, sucking in a gasping breath.

Above him, claws sunk into the high walls, was an absolutely massive and snake-like dragon. Its scales were a deep black and its eyes glowed with a yellow sheen. The body was long with short legs and what looked like massive claws, though Harry couldn't make them out. It hissed loudly at Harry, showing snake-like fangs and dragon-like molars.

"What in the bloody hell is that?" Harry demanded.

"Salazar's guardian." Ragnok answered blandly.

"Salazar's guardian? I think I've seen Salazar's guardian and that is most certainly not it." Harry insisted, still terrified by the gaze of the beast.

"Salazar Slytherin was a beast speaker and particularly loved reptiles. He was a breeder, and, from my understanding, it's highly likely that he has caves of these animals somewhere." Ragnok informed him.

"Sweet mother of Merlin," Harry groaned. "Well, what do I do?"

"Typically, you'd smear your blood on each door. Seeing as you're the heir of all four, I see no reason for you not to spill your blood upon the center stone of the room."

"How will that have any effect on the vaults?"  
"You're looking at these four vaults personal ward stone."

"Oh." Harry stated blandly. "Oh."

Ragnok offered him a wicked looking dagger and Harry walked to the center of the room. The stone the goblin had pointed to was slightly protruding, rounded almost like a boulder. On it, the crest he recognized as belonging to Hogwarts was carved upon the face. Harry again sliced his palm and clenched his fist before opening his hand, letting countless drops of blood fall onto the stone.

Slowly, the cut on his hand healed and the stone seemed to have absorbed his blood.

"Well, nothing's happening," Harry observed, looking around the room. "Guess I'm not the-"

The walls of the room were shaking and the center stone was glowing with a white light. Slowly, each door pulled upwards, disappearing from sight as a pedestal rose up from the ground.

Harry stood still as four rings floated out from the various vaults, which, as far as he could see from where he was standing, were filled with gold. Two of the rings were silver and the other two gold but they met on the pedestal just the same.

A blinding flash of magic erupted where the rings touched and when it dissipated a minute later, one ring was left in their place.

The ring was a solid platinum color and consisted of a thick band with a gold inlay of the crest of Hogwarts. A sapphire and a citrine stone sat to the left and a ruby and an emerald sat to the right of the crest.

Harry approached the pedestal and looked at the ring, sitting innocuously on the white stone. He hesitantly picked up the ring, sliding it onto his right middle finger.

The ring shrunk to fit him as his other two had done. But this ring was different. His magic rose in anticipation, expelled in visible waves. He felt a constraint breaking, a snappy pressure from within. His magic was struggling at points in his body, trickling past his shoulders and nearly stopping at his wrists.

It was almost as if a block existed on those spots. Suddenly, the band on his body popped and his magic rushed through ever channel of his body, stretching to meet and bond with the rings fully.

He could feel the knowledge of his properties flush into his mind. He could feel command of the wards of each property fall onto him. Better yet, he could feel the wards of Hogwarts snapping away from the headmaster who held them and transferring onto him, piling their weight and power and knowledge onto him.

"Whoa," Harry whispered. His magic felt so…clean. And he felt heavier with the weight of it.

"Would you like to visit the vaults?" Ragnok asked, breaking Harry's reverie.

"I suppose I must, if only to look." Harry acquiesced.

He took a step to the Ravenclaw vault. It was clearly huge, with high ceilings that nearly touched some of the massive stacks of gold. Trunks littered the floor and some were open, displaying more gold and jewels. Shelves of books, hundreds of books, lined the walls of the vaults. In the dead center, a portrait stood. Displayed in splendid colors was a woman in robes of deep blue and silver. Her skin was pale and her hair was as dark as the feathers of a raven. Her cheekbones were high and aristocratic. Her eyes were a deep brown. Yet…she was frozen.

"Not a magical portrait?" Harry mused aloud.

He focused on it intently for a moment, attempting to view the magic on the portrait.

It was difficult, in a place like Gringotts. The magic would overtake his eyes and leave him with a pulsing headache.

"Only for a moment…" Harry thought.

He willed his magic through his eyes, a command it followed more easily than ever before.

The room came a glow. Even the walls were a pulsing and deep red color that, from Harry's understanding, signaled the presence of wards. Harry focused on the portrait, seeing a silvery hued magical sheen that marked the presence of magic. Quickly, he cut off the magic from his eyes.

His vision returned to normal.

"So it's dormant magic, I guess."

Harry tilted his head before pulling out his wand. If he was truly emancipated, then he had every right to do magic.

He cast a simply shrinking charm on the portrait, carefully pronouncing "reducio" so he wouldn't damage the likely priceless artifact.

The portrait shrunk to the size of a matchbook and Harry placed in gently in the pocket of his cloak.

"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself and he crossed into the Hufflepuff vault.

There were plenty of piles of gold and even a shelve of books. What really caught Harry's attention were the seven mirrors standing against one wall. They were huge and ornate, probably able to accommodate even Hagrid's large frame. With a thick gold frame, they were clearly antiques and Harry had to wonder as to their purpose. He supposed he would find out later.

There were many interesting shelves of drawers that, judging by the labels, contained seeds.

Harry saw another portrait in a matching frame. A larger framed woman with a round face, bright and cheery eyes, and yellow-blonde hair sat upon a golden armchair. Her robes were a deeper gold color with some black accents.

"Helga Hufflepuff," Harry breathed.

He waved his wand and cast the shrinking spell again, placing the portrait in the same pocket.

He had seen nothing he would truly benefit from at that point within the vaults so he left, crossing over to the Slytherin vault.

Ragnok was still standing in the entrance, clanking the bag at the beast that still clung to the ceiling.

The Slytherin vault was a tad more orderly than the others. Large stacks of gold, silver, and bronze were backed along the wall. Trunks that were filled with rolls of parchment sat in one corner. Shelves were filled with numerous books, almost matching Ravenclaw, and silver chain mail armor sat next to a sword encrusted with jewels.

Harry took more interest in the portraits, the only things that seemed as if they might be of use at that moment.

Salazar was an imposing figure, posed regally in emerald green robes. He had a strong jaw line and nose, complemented by almost beady black eyes. His hair was as dark as that of Rowena Ravenclaw and fell in waves to his shoulders. His face seemed cold, almost cruelly lined.

Harry quickly but carefully shrunk his portrait, placing it with the others before moving on. He and Sirius didn't have much time before they needed to be back and Harry suspected that it would take them some time to complete business.

The Gryffindor vault contained, surprisingly enough, a lot of furniture. From large old trunks filled with tapestries to plush looking armchairs, it wasn't what Harry expected. Granted, there were more weapons lined along the back wall than he had ever seen before. Swords, shields, lances, bows, and even spears were there. There was a small shelf of books, probably only fifty or so, and large stacks of gold as well as the portrait. While Harry was sure there was more within the vault, he had no concept of what he was looking for.

The portrait of Godric Gryffindor was not what he expected either. He expected the man to be huge and muscled, decked out in armor or bearing a sword.

Instead, the man was sat in front of a fireplace in an armchair in plain red robes that were tailored to fit. His jaw was broad, as were his shoulders, and his hair was a shaggy dark brown. A pair of glasses were perched on his nose and he was gazing towards Harry with intelligent and wise eyes. Still, it was clear the man was a warrior through the set of his shoulders and the strength visible in his muscles.

Harry shrunk the founder of his house and placed him into his pocket with the others. He took one last look around the vault before leaving, walking back towards Ragnok, trying not to look up at the beast above.

"Are you ready to leave, Lord Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Slyth erin?" Ragnok asked as Harry approached the exit.

"You can just call me Harry," Harry told the goblin. "And yes, I am."

Harry and the goblin walked back to the cart where Sirius sat, looking as if he were about to doze off.

"Ah, pup," Sirius said, sitting straighter. "Go well?"  
"All bloody four," Harry grumbled, showing him the ring.

"Joyful," Sirius said cheerfully. "Ragnok, will you be able to perform the test to see if he might be heir Merlin as well?"

"If Lord Potter so wishes," the goblin told them agreeably. Something told Harry that the goblins would be going out of their way to make sure Harry was a happy client.

Harry and the goblin climbed into the cart that began to roll slowly down the track, deeper into the darkness.

Through the silence, Harry heard the four vault doors seal shut and heard the thump of Salazar's beast as it hit the ground.

The cart picked up speed.

"Oh no," Sirius groaned. "This again."

Harry and Ragnok smirked.

* * *

**Coming up: Merlin's vaults. I've been very happy with the feedback and I wanted to get something out to you guys. Thanks for all the support and reviews. Don't hesitate to leave more. **

**I'd also like to address an issue before it becomes one, in the hopes I don't lose readers. Harry won't claim the title of Merlin and end up as the King of the Wizarding World. If that happens, I think it would be in a sequel. The way the government is set up, currently, doesn't include a throne. **


	3. NOTICE

Alright, everyone, I know it's been awhile since I've really updated and I have to apologize for that.

Sadly, this is not an update.

At the moment, I am going through both of my published stories and am completely rewriting them. Well, maybe not completely, but a lot is being changed. I am posting this notice as a chapter to let you all know that I will be deleting these two stories once I have the updated versions written. So, if you would like to read them, I suggest following me. Not following the stories, following me as the author.

Some things will change very little and others will change a lot. In some places, I will fix only the grammar.

Thanks for sticking with me.


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